


A Face From the Past

by Foreverwholockedme



Series: The Doctor and the Holmes-Watsons [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Happy Ending, Kidlock, M/M, Sherlock's Past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 05:06:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2375711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foreverwholockedme/pseuds/Foreverwholockedme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Sherlock's birthday, The Doctor tells Sherlock that he can go anywhere he chooses. He chooses to visit his younger self to give him some hope for the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Face From the Past

Sherlock and John were nestled in their bed together, sleeping. The sun wasn't quite out at the time, but it poked out enough to shine, the sunlight hit their bedroom window and beamed right in John's face. Sherlock had his face buried in John's back so he was unaffected by the harsh light. He groaned and pulled the blanket over his face, but all that did was make Sherlock stir around and moan as John tried to shield himself from the light and get a few more minutes of sleep since this was one of the few days he had no work and Sherlock wasn't on a case. He had to pull the blanket back down because Sherlock was starting to wake up, and he didn't want that. Sherlock just solved a case last night, and he hasn't slept at all during the full week it lasted, John practically forced him to sleep.

With a sigh, John started to roll over.

"Come on Sherlock; move over a little, I'm rolling over."

Sherlock heard him and released his hold on John's waist and allowed for his husband to move over so that he can resume his cuddling. John flipped on his other side to be free from the sun's hot rays. Almost immediately. Sherlock rushed back into his position, except now, Sherlock was nuzzled onto John's chest, snoring lightly. John kissed Sherlock's curls as he felt the soft air on his chest from Sherlock's breathing. Sometimes he couldn't believe that he was married to him, it seemed like a dream at times. They've only been married for a few months; they wouldn't forget the events that took place before and during their wedding ceremony either. He wondered how Holmes and Watson were doing, or if Moriarty came back and was now tormenting them. He wondered where The Doctor was at the moment. Was he in the past, the present, the future, or somewhere in between? Was he going to come back for them? They told him at the end of their reception that they would love to be his companions, but they would need some time to adjust to married life first. They never seen The Doctor smile so brightly before. Holmes and Watson went home after them, it would take more time, The Doctor said.

But that all seems like an eternity ago. John still has trouble believing that all of that really happened, he likes to think that Sherlock drugged him again and he missed the whole night before their wedding. But when Sherlock talks about it, John realizes that it was real.

From his side of the bed, he could see the calendar on the wall next to the door. It was on January. He squinted so he could make out the date, January sixth, Sherlock's birthday.

John's eyes widened, he had almost completely forgotten about it! It wasn't as if Sherlock was the type of person to let everybody know that his birthday was only a day away, or tell anybody when his birthday was. Hell, John had to go to Mycroft to get the date! Sherlock isn't big on birthdays, but he would still be hurt that John didn't even try to celebrate the day of his birth, and John will not be able to tolerate that. It only seems right, since Sherlock remembered his, and Mrs. Hudson's.

Sacrificing his last bit of sleep, he slowly removed Sherlock's long limbs from his waist and tried to get up without making a fuss. Sherlock's face scrunched up and he started groaning but John silenced him with a kiss on the lips. Making sure that Sherlock was okay, John tip-toed into the kitchen to begin with breakfast.

He made his way to the fridge to find Mrs. Hudson putting away groceries that she brought recently. Seeing John in his pyjamas, she jumped and rose to her feet.

"My word, John you've almost given me a heart attack! What are you doing up so early, popping into the kitchen like some sort of spirit?"

John needed her to quiet down.

"I'm sorry Mrs. H, but I'm trying to make Sherlock breakfast in bed."

After hearing him out, she smiled and started giggling.

"Is this for his birthday?"

John nodded.

"You didn't forget, did you John?"

John just stared. Mrs. Hudson gasped.

"John!" She whispered, “How can you forget your own husband's birthday? I've even marked it on the calendar for you!"

"I wouldn't have forgotten if Sherlock just opened his mouth a little more."

Mrs. Hudson's brows rose suggestively.

"Not like that!"

She waved him off and gathered the empty shopping bags.

"Oh hush and get to cooking! I'll be out of your hair in a moment."

"Thanks for going shopping, you're a saint."

"Rubbish, I'm just your landlady."

"But not the housekeeper, yes Mrs. Hudson, I'm aware. Thank you all the same."

She winked and left the flat without making a sound. If she was a bit younger, and really wanted to, she could've made the best thief in London.

Turning his attention the newly put out ingredients for his breakfast, he rubbed his hands together and said, "Right, off we go."   
~~~~~~~~  
He finished the breakfast in no time. It was a platter; he made enough for the both of them since he knew there was no way Sherlock was going to eat all of it. He could barely eat toast sometimes. The grand breakfast consisted of; two slices of ham, Sherlock's had a slice of pineapple on it so that it would be easier to differentiate. He made two fried eggs, though Sherlock liked his yolk a bit more runny, four slices of toast with beans on the top of two slices and strawberry jam on the other. Sherlock isn't picky with his toast; he'll probably eat them both. There were some bangers on another smaller plate, and to top it all off, he had two plates with their teacups resting on it.

John was very proud of himself; he hoped Sherlock would eat it.

"Wow, this looks delicious! When are we eating?"

John's brows furrowed. That wasn't Sherlock's voice. He spun around to find The Doctor sitting there with a fork and knife in his hands and stared at John with an eager look on his face. John's mouth was hanging open.

"Don't just stand there like you don't know anyone, John! It's me The Doctor!"

He was being unreasonably loud and the last thing anyone needed was a grumpy, tired Sherlock.

"Yeah I know who you are--could you just lower your voice?"

"Why? Is Sherlock back there sleeping?"

John nodded, grateful that he spoke quietly.

"Did you know that today was his birthday? Is this why you're making all this...food?"

"Yes Doctor, I am. And I'm going to give this to him and we're going to enjoy the morning alone, do you understand me?"

The Doctor helped himself to one of the bangers, John's jaw clenched.

"Oh yeah sure, I'll stay out here, and let you two snog and frick frack."

What an odd choice of words.

"Thank you, Doctor. Just, thirty minutes to an hour will be okay."

"What are you doing after this? Surely you have something planned for your darling husband, yeah?"

John's eyes danced away.

"You see, about that..."

The Doctor's eyes widened and a goofy grin crept on his face.

"O-M-G, you forgot about Sherlock's birthday, didn't you?"

John didn't answer straight away.

"...Like I asked before, if you could keep your voice down..."

"He's going to have your head on a pike!"

"Yeah I know that, that's why I'm trying to get this done so I can plan something out with the others, have Lestrade distract him or something, I don't know."

"You know, I can distract him for you." The Doctor said, helping himself to another banger.

"Y-you can?"

"I have a time-machine, remember?"

John felt completely stupid. Of course, The Doctor can take him on a quick ride or two and then they'll come back and John will have everything set and ready! The Doctor smiled as he chewed.

"You should probably get that food to Sherlock; it's going to get cold."

Without replying, John turned back around and cautiously made his way back to their bedroom. When he stepped inside, he found Sherlock still asleep, and he couldn't help but smile to himself as he watched his husband. Sherlock looked younger, if that was even possible, and he was more at peace, which he needed. There was some times where John would watch him sleep, and see a frown creep up on Sherlock's face. It saddened him to see Sherlock like that. John just wants him to be happy, finally, like everyone else.

He gingerly walked over to his side of the bed and sat down. He turned so that the food or the tea would fall and set it down in front of Sherlock's face. John's hand went to Sherlock's face and gently rubbed it with the pad of his thumb.

"Sherlock, come on, time to get up."

Sherlock groaned and fussed, John chuckled.

"Don't be like that. Come on, I made you some food."

One eye opened and stared down at the food.

"What is this?" Sherlock's rather attractive, tired voice asked.

"It's food, especially made for the birthday boy."

Sherlock opened the other eye and sat up. He stretched his arms out as he yawned and then looked back down at the food.

"Why did you make this?"

"For your birthday, genius, why else?"

Sherlock smiled softly.

"You mean to tell me you remembered my birthday?"

John gave an unsure nod.

"Yeah...."

Sherlock laughed.

"Idiot."

He was met with Sherlock's lips on his and whatever word that was sitting on his tongue died right then and there. John's hands flew to Sherlock's magnificent curls and tangled themselves in his hair. Sherlock let out a moan as John's fingers grazed his scalp, the tickling sensation beginning to drive him crazy. They leaned in, careful not to knock over the food that John had so carefully made. John's other hand went for the skin underneath Sherlock's shirt, which caused Sherlock to clasp a hand over John's as he was feeling him up. With the help of Sherlock, John began to remove Sherlock's t-shirt from his body.

"You know I hate it when you wear all these clothes, Sherlock." John growled.

"Of course I do, John. It makes things more entertaining."

John's laugh reverberated through Sherlock's mouth, causing Sherlock to moan louder. Sherlock was just beginning on John's shirt when The Doctor interrupted.

"Do any of you know where the biscuits are?"

The husbands pulled away quickly. Their faces were burning red from the lack of privacy The Doctor gave them.

Sherlock slid his shirt back on and turned to The Doctor with a small smile on his face.

"Doctor! What brings you here? I thought you said that you had something to do."

"I done it. And now I'm back right where I want to be, with my two favorite husbands in the whole world!"

He joined the duo on the bed.

"What did I say, Doctor? I said to give us an hour of privacy." John bemoaned.

"Yes, about that," The Doctor began, “I was going to do that, but then I started craving biscuits you see."

"Second cupboard on the right."

"Yeah I found your pack."

Sherlock looked confused.

"So why are you asking for biscuits if you've already found them?"

"I've eaten them all."

"Well then there is no more, Doctor, and what are you doing here anyway? John, you were planning on telling me that he was here, yes?"

John scratched the back of his head, to which Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Well I'm here to celebrate the day of your birth, Sherlock. And because it's your birthday, I'm going to allow you one location of your choice on the TARDIS!"

Sherlock didn't know how to respond to that.

"You're lying. You don't know when my birthday is. I've never given you that information."

The Doctor was getting excited.

"Oh yes you have!"

Sherlock leaned forward.

"When?"

"When we first met of course, you probably don't remember because I kind of overloaded your mind with the TARDIS, but I marked it on my calendar, and today is the day!"

Sherlock looked skeptical but left the topic alone, much to John's happiness.

"Now, how about breakfast, Sherlock?" John cut in.

"Oh yes please, we'll get going after I have more of those scrumptious bangers!"

The Doctor looked up at Sherlock.

"Come on, eat up!"

Sherlock looked down at the food and picked up a fork.

"I suppose I can fit in a meal now."

"You're not supposing, Sherlock, you are. You haven't eaten in four days."

Sherlock smirked and cut a piece of the ham. He slid it into his mouth and chewed.

"Very good, John. Not bad for a man who makes everything out of boxes and cans."

John's eyes narrowed.

"Shut up."

They both started laughing as John helped himself to his cooking. He was pretty satisfied with himself. He got Sherlock to eat, and praise his food. Today might be a good day.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
"Alright Sherlock let's be off now! Never know when an intergalactic war could break out. It does horrible things to time travel."

Sherlock snorted and slid his jacket on. John was waiting for him at the door.

"Why can't you come, John?" Sherlock asked childishly.

"Because I have to prepare for work, that's why." John hated lying, especially to Sherlock.

"You're working on my birthday? I thought you didn't have work?"

John tried his best to look defeated.

"I thought so too but then they phoned me earlier while you were sleeping and told me that they're short a few people and need me to come in. I'm sorry, Sherlock, I promise I'll make it up to you."

John couldn't stand to see Sherlock's face like that. He was hurt, but it was all for a good cause. He'll see.

"Alright then, I'll see you later?"

John smiled and gave him a light kiss.

"Of course. I'll try to be back as early as I can."

Sherlock left with The Doctor. He didn't even look back at John.

 

They were now inside the TARDIS, and for some reason, it looked even more brighter than usual. Did it know that it was Sherlock's birthday as well?

"Alright, pick a place, any place! Ancient Rome, the lost city of Atlantis, The planet Schmarka, anywhere you want!"

"What's Schmarka?"

"It's a wonderful planet with people that have heads the shapes of bananas. They're awfully hospitable though. I recommend it, but, this is where you want to go."

Sherlock looked distracted, and it troubled The Doctor.

"Why so glum, Sherlock?"

"I have reason to believe that John was lying about work. But why would he do that? Does he not want to celebrate my birthday?"

The Doctor shook his head.

"I highly doubt that John would lie about work. Who would lie about going to work? I know I wouldn't. But don't think about that, think about that one place that's been on your mind, think Sherlock, do what you were born to do and think."

Sherlock mused for a moment, trying to find the one place he's always wanted to go, or speak to someone that he's always desired to talk to. Suddenly, he found it.

"Doctor, I know where I want to go, if it's not too much of a hassle for you."

"Anywhere, Sherlock."   
~~~~~~~~~~~  
Sherlock opened the TARDIS door to the exact spot he wanted.

"Are you sure we're in the right spot?"

The Doctor popped his head out.

"I don't see why we shouldn't be."

"The last time you said that, we ended up meeting Holmes and Watson."

The Doctor's eyes darted around.

"Sometimes the TARDIS likes to do things her way."

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Right, just give me a few minutes and then I promise we can go back to Baker Street."

Sherlock took out his sunglasses from his coat pocket and slid them on as he walked over to the little boy who was sitting down in between the two trees. The Doctor kept a watchful eye over him.

Sherlock made his way to the little boy. This was his school, but he was sitting so far away from it. The children were out and playing on the jungle gym, but here this little boy was, crying, and his clothes were mussed up as if he got into a fight with another person, probably one of the boys playing. Sherlock knew better, because Sherlock knew who this little boy was.

It was himself, Little Sherlock Holmes.

If he remembered correctly, he was sitting here because the other boys decided that they had no other way to spend their free-time than beating him up. None of the other children liked him, so they didn't tell on the boys who beat him up. They just left him there, bleeding, bruised, and crying. They all resumed their playing as Sherlock collected all of the stuff they knocked out of his backpack, sniveling and miserable. This was the day after Redbeard died, so he was particularly vulnerable to the students' hatred. It was only because he had no one to talk to about it, he had no friends now that Redbeard was gone. He was alone.

The older version of Sherlock tried his best to hold back the tears, he remembered all the pain and suffering too clearly. He wished that he had found John sooner, maybe he wouldn't have turned to the drugs, or tried to kill himself by overdosing so many times. Things could have been different, so much more different. But he has John now, and that's what matters.

He took a seat next to the boy who was wiping away his tears with his sleeve; his mother was going to have a fit when she sees the stains. He won't even tell her why they were there, but he knew that she knew. She's always known, and that's why they got him Redbeard.

"Having a bad day?"

Sherlock's tone was so much softer than he was used to. The little curly-haired boy looked up at him, eyes red and puffy from all the crying.

"What does it matter to you?"

Sherlock shrugged.

"You didn't look like you were in a good way, and then I saw your clothes, so I know that you really aren't in a good way. What's wrong?"

Of course, Young Sherlock didn't answer. Sherlock sighed.

"Did those boys bully you again?"

From Young Sherlock's facial expression, he knew that he was right. But he didn't need to see his face, he already knew because he lived it.

"Yeah, I thought so."

Young Sherlock was dabbing a piece of tissue to a rather angry looking cut on his knee. Sherlock grimaced at the sight.

"Here, let me."

Sherlock moved to take the tissue, but Young Sherlock recoiled from the large hand. Understandable.

"I have bandages; I can wrap your leg for you, just until you get home."

Young Sherlock considered this, but then shook his head. Always paranoid, Sherlock thought. He's always been cautious when others have shown care towards him. Nobody cared about him.

"Suit yourself."

They sat in silence for a while, watching the other children scurry about in their mundane games. Sherlock had a look of disgust on his face. It wouldn't have been so repulsive to him if they only invited him when he was younger. Young Sherlock had a look of longing and sadness as he watched them have fun and knowing that they would never ask him to play with them. Sherlock frowned once he caught Young Sherlock's face.

"You know..."

"S-Sherlock." The little voice answered through tears.

"You know Sherlock; it won't be this bad forever."

"What do you mean by that? Nobody likes me, it'll always remain like that. Who could ever like someone like me?"

John Watson could.

"...I know where you're coming from Sherlock, I do. I know that things aren’t great and that everything seems like nothing without Redbeard..."

"How do you know about Redbeard?"

Sherlock thought up a lie on the spot.

"I used to have a dog I loved very much too. His name was Redbeard as well."

Young Sherlock was suspicious, but let Sherlock talk.

"My point is, while it may seem like the world is out to get you, you'll find somebody out there who loves you just as much as Redbeard did. He'll..."

"He?" Young Sherlock asked.

Sherlock smirked.

"Yes, HE."

"He will make you feel wonderful about yourself. He'll call you amazing, fantastic, brilliant, and all of the other wonderful words. You won't hate yourself so much when you're with him. And you'll want nothing more than him." 

Sherlock smiled.

"He'll make you laugh and smile on days you feel like giving up and crying, he'll compliment you when everyone else insults you and makes you feel awful about yourself. He'll listen when you're being ignored. He'll love you, when no one else will."

Young Sherlock started to smile.

"Then you'll get married to him, and you'll be so happy, and he'll be happy, and there will be nothing else that can even come in comparison to it."

Young Sherlock was smiling through all of the tears and sadness as he pictured life with this mysterious man. He found himself in Sherlock's embrace. It was awkward, but Young Sherlock knew that he was trying to comfort him.

"I know that you need this right now, and although I am not a fan of hugs, I'm willing to give one to you."

So they sat like that, and for a moment, it was only them, and they liked it just like that.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
"SURPRISE!"

Sherlock and The Doctor stepped inside the flat to find John, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, and Molly huddled around the table that had a large cake, and some drinks laid out on it. Sherlock was flabbergasted; John planned a surprise birthday party. He can't believe that John outsmarted him. Good on John.

The Doctor said, "John actually forgot about your birthday today, so he had me distract you while he planned a last minute birthday party. Isn't it amazing?!"

Sherlock's eyes darted to John's at The Doctor's words. John grew incredibly nervous.

"Doctor, you didn't need to tell him everything!"

The Doctor placed a hand on his mouth as he realized his mistake.

"Sorry, John didn't forget your birthday; this was all part of the plan!"

Sherlock snorted.

"Nice try, Doctor."

"S-Sherlock...I..."

"Shut up John, I can't believe that you would forget my birthday, me, your own husband!"

John looked as nervous as ever as Sherlock neared him. He was surprised when Sherlock kissed him.

"You could've just told me you big dummy."

John and The Doctor's eyebrows rose.

"You mean, you don't mind?"

"John, I barely celebrate my own birthday, I could care less if you threw me a party."

"But today, on the TARDIS..."

"I only acted like that to see if you would tell me the truth, Doctor. But you didn't. I was actually surprised that John managed to lie to me without getting me to figure it out until now. I really believed that you had work today."

John gave a smug smile.

"But since this is all solved, let's get to the singing and the eating and all that stuff associated with parties. I'm feeling rather peckish at the moment."

With that, the party began.

 

They sang to Sherlock, no matter how much he hated it, John smeared some cake frosting on Sherlock's nose, much to his secret enjoyment. Even though he acted like he didn't like the party, he was secretly pleased. John and The Doctor could see that. The party ended after two and a half hours, with a slightly tipsy Mrs. Hudson, a bubbly Molly, and Lestrade in a better mood than earlier. The Doctor said goodbye as well, promising that he'll have to take them on a real adventure soon, since they were his honorary companions. All that was left was Sherlock and John. John was cleaning up the aftermath of the party, while Sherlock was sipping away on a cup of soda. He rarely drank the stuff, but it was a special occasion.

"Did you have a nice evening, Sherlock? Enjoyed the party?"

"I thought the party was insufferable, but pleasant enough to keep you lot entertained."

"Right, you enjoyed the party."

Sherlock laughed and took another sip. He found himself staring at John for a while, long enough for John to notice.

"What is it, Sherlock?"

"Nothing, it's just, I remember when I was younger, I had a talk with a man, never did get his name."

"What did he say?"

"He told me that one day I would grow up to marry this wonderful man who would compliment me, and make me feel good, and love me."

John stopped cleaning and folded his arms.

"Did he now?"

Sherlock nodded.

"And what do you think about it now? About what that man said?"

A smirk tugged at Sherlock's lips.

"I think he was right."

John thought about that for a moment and then gave a smile. That made his night, Sherlock knew. He set the cup down and sauntered past John.

"I'm hopping in the shower, care to join?"

Without hesitation, John replied, "Oh god yes."

**Author's Note:**

> Might edit this later.


End file.
